


A Plausible Letter

by lea_hazel



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Daedric Prince Shenanigans, F/M, Forced Marriage, Gen, Humor, Inheritance, Skyrim Kink Meme, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3262517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A courier is hanging around the secret entrance to the thieves' guild lair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Plausible Letter

It started innocently enough. 

Well, no. That's a lie. 

Really, when has anything involving the Thieves' Guilt, Thalmor espionage, lost shrines to Nocturnal or carved horker tusks ever been innocent? Put all these things in close enough proximity, add unfortunate timing, and, well... The rest is history. 

All anyone knew is that Sapphire had gone on a routine job and returned a week late, in a temper unusually foul, even for her. It was prudent to keep silent. Anyone who  _did_  know something would find themselves the subject of swift and decisive vengeance. 

After a few tense days of ill-tempered stalking and growled threats, the novelty wore off and things returned to normal. Sapphire's secret, whatever it might be, had stopped being a subject for debate and speculation. Eventually, the whole incident was forgotten. 

Until one day in First Seed, when a stranger was spotted wandering around the backways of Riften. A stranger loitering near the Ragged Flagon was almost as much concern to the Thieves' Guild as loitering thieves were to the city guard. Someone had to be dispatched to dispatch the intruder. 

Luckily, Sapphire was just on her way back from a job. 

"There you are!" said the stranger. "I have an urgent message, for your hands only. Say, what are you doing wandering back here?" 

"Visiting my father's grave," said Sapphire icily. 

"Really," said the courier. 

"Yes,  _really_ ," she replied. 

She produced from somewhere a slightly crushed bunch of purple flowers, which she then laid over one of the tombstones. The dragonfly wings that clung to it didn't enhance the effect. 

"I'm very sorry for your loss," said the courier dryly. 

Sapphire got up and brushed her hands on her thighs briskly. "So what's this about a message for me?" 

"A letter," said the courier, "to be delivered to your hands only. It's from-- oh! Getting letters from jarls? You must be coming up in the world." 

"Well?" said Sapphire irritably. "Give it here!" 

She snatched the rolled up letter from his hands and he skipped back a step. 

"Right, then," he said quickly, "see you never." 

Sapphire hunched over the prize in her hands, turning it this way and that. She glanced behind her a few times until she was sure that no one was about, and then slipped into the crypt to open it. Privacy was more important than light to read by. Especially for a letter from a  _jarl_. It had to be a prank, right? 

Her eyes widened as the letters formed into words, and the words into one nonsensical sentence after another. 

She hissed in surprise. "Well, paint me gold and call me Meridia." 

She crushed the paper in her hand and pocketed the pouch that came along with it before descending down the hatch into the cistern with a sprightly skip in her step.

***

Faralda was standing watch on the bridge as usual when the Nord woman showed up. That in itself was surprising; the native populace was known to regard the College at best with derision, at worst with suspicion. Still, a few of their best masters were Nords, and even one of the newest apprentices. So she put on her best face to welcome the newcomer and waited to see if she had even a smidgen of talent. 

"I'm not applying to join the College as a student," the Nord said coolly. "I'm here to collect my late husband's belongings." 

Faralda scoured her brain for an appropriate reply, but came up with nothing but bewildered blanks. 

The strange woman waved a piece of paper in front of her face. "I came here as soon as I received notice of his death. Quite grisly, I understand." 

"Yes, it was--" Faralda reached vaguely for words to fill the gap "--quite tragic. I am very sorry for your loss." 

"My thanks to you," said the stranger gravely. "If I may see his rooms, now, please? I traveled very far to get here, and frankly I would like to get out of the freezing cold." 

"Of course!" said Faralda hastily. She waved her arms about and gestured at the passageway behind her. "Please explain your, uh, predicament to Master Wizard Tolfdir. I'm certain he can help you find what you need." 

She watched the Nord walk up the sloping walkway with huge, stalking steps. Then, shaking her head bemusedly, turned her attention back to the road. 

***

Sapphire peeped into the room beyond the open archway. Wizards apparently did not put much stock in privacy. "So this is it, then?" 

The elderly mage coughed delicately, mouth hidden behind his upturned hand. "Yes, this is the room assigned to Ambassador Ancano during his, ah, short-lived stay in Winterhold. His possessions should all be present and accounted for, except for the items he was carrying during his-- demise." 

Sapphire could hardly suppress a cackle. Her circumstance was making the mages of the College so fantastically uncomfortable, and it was very entertaining to watch. "All my husband's earthly belongings," she said thoughtfully, skimming a hand over a dresser of dark, polished wood. 

"I will leave you in privacy," said Tolfdir, "to collect yourself." 

"How thoughtful," murmured Sapphire, who indeed had a great deal of collecting to do. 

She dropped her empty satchel on the bed and took in her surroundings. One by one, she opened every drawer and cupboard in the room, emptying their content in a great heap, one could even say a hoard, on the green coverlet. It was a jumbled assortment of clothing, weapons, magical and alchemical curios, and a great deal of money in coin and gems. 

Those last ones were easiest to deal with. She sorted the flawed gems from the higher quality ones and divided them all up into several pouches, which she hid in different places upon her person. One lesson she learned early and bitterly was to never keep all her money in one place. Certainly not a fortune of this size, which was frankly more money than she'd ever held in her hands in one time. 

The magic things were harder to assess for value, but most of them didn't weigh much. She shrugged it off and decided to pack them all together and let Delvin break his head figuring out what they were worth. There were numerous rings and necklaces, all gleaming with the eerie light of odd enchantments, and even one coronet which she might have kept for herself if she didn't think it was worth more to her in market value. One gold ring set with a bright blue sapphire was unenchanted, and she cheerfully slipped it on her finger. All of these seemed to be her late husband's handiwork, so she was surprised to find one or two divine amulets among them. 

As she separated them out, she let out a whooping whistle. "Oh, someone was naughty, were they?" 

The chain slid between her fingers while the amulet itself rested easily in the middle of her open palm. She knew that emblem  _quite_  well. "Ancano, you bad, bad boy," she murmured to herself. Really. Thalmor agents hoarding symbols of Talos. What  _will_  they come up with next?

The clothing was fine in quality, but not of any outstanding value. She folded each piece neatly and packed them tightly into the satchel to cushion the items she did care about. It was mostly robes of the sort that stuffy thanes, mages and elves liked to wear, and she had no interest in any of it. The exception was the only item that wasn't a robe of any kind. Rather, it was an ordinary dress, of the sort that the girls at the Bee and Barb used to wear before Keerava bought it. 

She spread the dress out and examined it, before stuffing it back into the bag. "Very,  _very_  naughty," she muttered, frowning. 

When all was said and done, she ended up with two satchels stuffed full of odds and ends, and a fine-looking glass dagger that she gladly strapped to her belt in place of her old, dull steel one. She even decided to keep one of the enchanted staves, although some part of her insisted that using it would be asking for trouble. Her late husband, after all, was a highly skilled Thalmor wizard, and his magical mishaps had still gotten him killed. What hope would a young Nord widow have of mastering such arcane powers? Such was the story she spun for herself as she scoured the room for hidden nooks. 

"What other perversions were you hiding here, you dirty old man?" she muttered to herself as she searched the room's secret corners one by one. 

At length, she discovered a secret cache, reaching with one hand deep into the narrow gap behind the bed. "Aha!" she cried out as she pulled up a lumpy cloth sack. "What's this, then?" 

Emptying the bag revealed several little vials, not like the glass bottles used for poison and alchemy droughts, but odd little metal flasks. She rubbed her thumb over the shiny yellowish metal and debated opening one of them to try and figure out what was in it. She knew a little bit of alchemy from when she had dabbled in poisons, although she'd hardly touched the stuff in years. While she was debating with herself, the cap fell off one of the bottles, spilling some of its contents. Sapphire rubbed the stuff between her fingertips thoughtfully, then let out a yelp of disgust. 

"Fucking pervert!" she hissed at her absent husband. "Kyne save me, you're disgusting, do you know that?" 

Finally, then, there was nothing left to do but heft her gainfully-gotten trove and escort herself out of the creepy magic tower. If she made it down the god-fearing stone walkway and into the town, maybe she'd even be able to hire a carriage back to Riften. Mara knew she had no intention of walking all the way back to the Flagon carrying this much loot. And, once she was home, she could get to the best part of being a widow: bragging to Vex and watching her eyes pop out of her face. 

With that in mind, it was all Sapphire could do not to whistle a jaunty tune on her way out the door.


End file.
